


Paper Bird

by jinwann



Category: VIXX
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 15:42:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5791237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinwann/pseuds/jinwann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a prosthetic mechanic, Hongbin knows everything from transforming neural signals to electrical signals, data processing, circuitboard design, and metal work. Love? Not so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paper Bird

**Author's Note:**

> finally worked out of a writers block with this sort of fullmetal alchemist au and sort of with the conquerors of shamballa setting in mind ^~^ the title is lim kim's "paper bird" and this fic was finished thanks to the simple minds album.   
> twitter: @babyxius ask.fm: @jinwann

Hongbin looks over the prosthetic arm on his work bench, admiring all its improvements thanks to the investment he'd made in the upgraded silicon skin covering and the new upgrades buzzing beneath the aluminum alloy surface. The dexterity adjustments in the fingers he'd made alone had taken two days to get them just right. Another three days had been spent making sure the fingers and wrist wouldn't lock up under extensive use. Newer, more sensitive nerve wiring replaced the old that had begun crackling when the elbow was jerked too sharply and a more durable aluminum alloy replaced the old metal encasing the wiring. 

Hongbin was beyond satisfied with his work. He exhales, taking the prosthetic in his arms and turning it over and over to make sure the final product was perfect.

“I'm sure you've checked it at least ten times,” Wonshik whines, sagging back into the couch in Hongbin’s workshop. “I'm sure it's absolutely perfect so can I please have my arm back.”

Hongbin huffs, eyes still glancing over his work. “It'll be perfect when I say so. I have to make sure you don't ruin this one as quickly as your last. God knows how long you spent composing to have all your fingers and your wrist lock in the state you came to me in. You were sparking at the elbow and shoulder!”

Wonshik looks away sheepishly, his right hand nervously running through his hair. “Well you fixed it, didn't you?”

Hongbin hums, propping a knee underneath him as he takes a seat on the couch at Wonshik’s left side. “Who do you think I am? Of course I fixed it and made extra changes just so that you don't fuck up your arm so fast next time. This is my finest work yet and you haven't even appreciated me for it!”

Smiling, Wonshik ruffles Hongbin’s hair roughly enough that Hongbin pouts at the thought of the state of his hair. Granted he looks gross anyway since his bangs are stuck to his forehead because it gets way too hot working in the workshop in summer with no air conditioning (he should've made that investment by now but he'd spent some of the savings on the upgraded silicon skin) but Wonshik is going to make him look even grosser. 

“Stop! Stop, okay? I'll shove your arm into the socket if you don't stop!”

Wonshik lays off after that. “I'm sure my new arm will be great.”

“Of course it will be,” Hongbin smirks. “I made it after all.”

Rolling his eyes, Wonshik sighs and sinks further into the couch. “Then can we move along with it then?”

Hongbin nods. Wonshik’s gaze finally looks nervous. This is the part Hongbin hates the most. “Want me to knock you out again?” he asks, setting the prosthetic down in Wonshik’s lap and glancing through the box set beside the couch for the anaesthetic. The pain of nerves reconnecting is the worst part of having a prosthetic. A strong enough anaesthetic is still being developed to take the edge off the pain, but until it is out for production, and until the price gets low enough that Hongbin can afford it in bulk, the most he can do is somewhat numb the connection portal and knock the patient out to prevent them from passing out later. 

“No, just…” Wonshik sighs, anxiously winding the fingers of his right hand in his shirt, “Just be gentle, okay?”

Hongbin smiles and nods, even if they both know there's nothing more he can do. “It'll be over quick. I promise.”

Wonshik exhales shakily, head rolling back on the couch. He shuts his eyes and clenches his teeth. “When you're ready, go for it.”

Hongbin pushes up Wonshik’s sleeve, rolling it up past his shoulder and pinning it to the collar of his shirt to keep it back. He makes quick work of wiping down the area around the metal portal at the juncture of Wonshik’s shoulder and injecting a shot of anaesthetic. Wonshik winces at the size of the needle alone and Hongbin apologizes softly. 

It takes a few minutes for the anaesthetic to take effect. Wonshik nods when Hongbin presses at the scarred skin of his shoulder and he can't feel any of it. Hongbin double checks the portal site, making sure all the connection points buzz upon contact with a metal rod he uses to test that nerves are firing. He does the same to the prosthetic to make sure the electrical connections are working before he lines up the prosthetic with the portal. Wonshik breathes heavily, shivering just seeing the prosthetic placed so close to the portal. Working diligently, Hongbin doesn't warn him when he makes the connection all at once, making sure to hold it in place and lock it down firmly when Wonshik thrashes at the sudden pain. 

“Fuck, fuck it hurts,” Wonshik curses through gritted teeth, eyes shut tight, and his body immediately tense.

“It's over,” Hongbin sighs, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in. “Just relax, it's over.”

Wonshik falls lax immediately, eyes still shut tight and breathing strained. His head rolls over to face Hongbin, bangs falling in his eyes. Hongbin checks the connections with the weight of the prosthetic in his lap. He tests the response of each finger, the wrist, and the elbow, and Wonshik nods weakly to all of his questions. Grabbing a wrench and screwdriver off his workbench, Hongbin tightens the last few bolts around the wrist, hidden underneath the silicon. “How does it feel?”

Wonshik rotates his shoulder back first, then moves to rotating the wrist and moving each of his fingers one by one. His eyes light up at the feeling in his fingertips and it finally feels like Hongbin can breathe easy. “The wrist feels a little loose,” Wonshik breathes, looking over his left arm as a whole. “The fingers feel good though.”

Hongbin tightens the wrist until Wonshik is satisfied. He leaves and lets Wonshik admire his work, feeling immensely proud, before coming back with a 10 pound weight he keeps by his work bench. “Lift it and see how your arm responds.”

Just as Wonshik takes the weight from him, the bell above the front door rings. Hongbin looks over and his breath catches in his throat. 

“Delivery for Lee Hongbin?”

Hongbin feels his mouth open to speak but nothing comes out but air. The stranger at his door stands slightly taller than him, shoulders broad and the cut off sleeves of his shirt leaving nothing up to Hongbin’s imagination about how well built the man is. He forces his eyes up to the man’s pink lips and the strong gaze in his eyes. His bangs fall just over his eyes, shifting as he fidgets with the cap on his head.

Hongbin stares until his leg buckles from a well aimed kick from Wonshik. “Ah, yeah, that's me,” he stutters out. He hears Wonshik snicker behind him and turns around to give him the most threatening and unamused glare he can manage with the flush spreading on his cheeks. 

“Would you mind signing for the order?” the stranger asks, looking between the two of them blankly. 

“O-Oh yeah, sure.” Hongbin looks back once more to threaten Wonshik about lifting the weight before shuffling towards the front door. He passes by a mirror and only then realizes how he looks like he'd just run around the whole town and hadn't slept in 3 days, which the latter is only somewhat true- at least if sleeping for 6 hours in the last three days counts as sleep at all. 

He does his best to fix his hair as he steps into the doorway. The stranger holds a large box in his arms, a larger shipment of the silicon skin, and motions soundlessly to the packing slip on top of the box. 

“Usually Chanshik is the one delivering packages in this area,” Hongbin says absentmindedly, twirling the pen in his hand and looking over the pricing on the package slip. “Is he doing okay?” 

“He just transferred to the south- closer to home,” the man says. His lips are pressed into a thin line as he glances around the area surrounding Hongbin’s workshop. 

“Well I guess I'll be seeing a lot of you.” The thought alone has Hongbin stalling for a moment. “I have to order so many parts all the time- poor Chanshik was here every other week with too many shipments.”

“I suppose I wouldn't mind that,” the man replies with the smallest smirk that sends Hongbin’s pulse skyrocketing. 

“Uh, yeah,” Hongbin looks around dumbly, trying to get his mind together. “You already know me but I guess an introduction wouldn't hurt. I'm Hongbin, owner of ROVIX Prosthetics and the only mechanic you'll find within a hundred kilometers of here.” He subconsciously wipes his hand down his pants and praying they don't come up with oil when he holds it out. 

“Taekwoon,” the deliveryman replies simply, shifting the package in his arms to take Hongbin’s hand. His gaze softens with his small smile and Hongbin’s pulse picks up again.

Taekwoon passes over the package, though Hongbin nearly drops it from the weight alone and the simple brush of Taekwoon’s hands against his fingertips. “Careful,” Taekwoon's murmurs softly, looking on amused as Hongbin flushes pink. 

“I got it, thanks,” he says, clenching his teeth as he sets the package in the doorway and pushes it further off to the side with his foot. He glances over at Wonshik, who proceeds to stick his tongue out at him and make kissy faces at him. Hongbin considers tweaking his wrist a little more, enough to hurt, until Taekwoon clears his throat behind him. 

“I'll be off,” he says, glancing once more at the workshop before his gaze meets Hongbin’s. “See you soon.”

Taekwoon is already walking down the worn path to the workshop when Hongbin gets himself to say something. “It was nice meeting you, Taekwoon!”

Hongbin isn't sure if he imagines Taekwoon smiling wider at his words, but it feels like his heart is melting in his chest. He shuts the door once Taekwoon is out of sight and sinks back against it bonelessly, finally feeling like he can breathe properly. 

“Looks like you've got a pretty good catch,” Wonshik whistles. He lifts the ten pound weight above his head in reps, smirking as Hongbin all but stomps over and lightly knocks his forehead back with trembling fingers. 

“Shut up or next time I'm going make you go a whole week without an arm!”

Wonshik laughs, poking his fingers into Hongbin’s sides until he's yelling for mercy. He nearly topples off the couch in his haste to get Wonshik to stop tickling him. 

“Clearly I don't need to make any adjustments if you can torment me like this,” he sighs breathlessly. “Stand up and put your weight on it for me.”

Wonshik does as he's told, warily pressing his palm flat and testing it before he tries to stand. His elbow buckles initially but he makes it standing with a proud smile. Hongbin runs the last of his tests, quality checks to make sure Wonshik’s arm sits properly on his shoulder and that the lengths of both his arms match, before finally letting him go. Wonshik leaves with a gracious smile and promises not to fuck up his hand and wrist from composing too much.

 _Yeah right_ , Hongbin thinks to himself. Knowing Wonshik, he'll be back sooner than Hongbin would like. 

“You better be producing the next hit single in the whole world if you come back here again for anything other than a checkup!”

Wonshik laughs, waving his left arm as he leaves. “I'll dedicate all of it to you- my loser mechanic who has it so fucking bad for the delivery boy!”

Hongbin doesn't feel even a bit of remorse as he slams the door behind Wonshik. Unfortunately, he can hear his friend’s boisterous laughter still ringing in his ears every time his attention gets draw back to Taekwoon long after Wonshik leaves.

 

 

 

“Oh my god… what did you do to your prosthetic.”

Sanghyuk looks down sheepishly at his prosthetic leg- the ankle is being held on by three wires and a shoddy job of duct tape and he's resting heavily on some old crutches. “It's not so bad? Well, I can't feel it anyway.”

“Sanghyuk!”

Sanghyuk laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “It's, uh, a long story?”

Hongbin folds his arms over his chest. He can already see sleepless nights ahead of him. 

“You better have a good explanation for this. There's not one person I've seen come to my workshop with a prosthetic looking like it's been put through a metal grinder.” 

Hongbin opens his door wider and lets Sanghyuk shuffle in on his crutches. He pulls the stool at his workbench out and takes away Sanghyuk’s crutches as he sits. He then grabs a small crate pushed against the wall and sits atop it at the level of Sanghyuk’s legs. And from close up, the damage looks even worse. 

“Alright,” he sighs, gingerly placing Sanghyuk’s prosthetic leg- or what's left of it- in his lap. “Start talking.”

Sanghyuk sucks in a breath. “Okay, so firstly I want to blame Sungjae and Eunkwang because this is mostly their fault and also the 5th graders I was subbing for at the elementary school and--”

Hongbin’s hands jerk a little too hard and one of the last three wires holding Sanghyuk’s ankle to the rest of the leg snaps in half. He looks up at Sanghyuk pointedly. 

“Uh, okay, well those 5th graders challenged me to a soccer match and I agreed, but one of them tried to kick the ball from me and they hit dead on my ankle and it twisted.”

Hongbin whistles under his breath, checking the wiring in the toes. It takes a lot to mess up one of his ankle builds- that kid has some unnatural power if one kick is all it takes to ruins Hongbin’s design. That, or Sanghyuk is not exactly being truthful with just how roughly he was playing soccer.

“I thought it was going to be okay,” he sighs, glancing down with a grimace at his own leg. The silicon covering is shredded around the ankle and a fourth of the way up the shin. “But then Sungjae and Eunkwang asked me to fix the awning to their shop and they kind of tried to scare me, and so I, uh, fell from the second story…”

“What?!” 

And in his shock, Hongbin’s hands jerk and he pulls Sanghyuk’s ankle, which comes away completely from his leg. The exposed wiring sparks, sending Hongbin toppling off the crate in surprise and Sanghyuk nearly falls off the stool. The air falls terse, Sanghyuk unable to express how to say sorry because Hongbin treasures each of his designs so much, and he had worked especially hard on Sanghyuk’s leg because he knew just how much Sanghyuk normally got into trouble. 

Thankfully, the bell over the door chimes before Hongbin can start to scold him, or sob at the state of his design.

“Delivery.”

Hongbin whips around to find Taekwoon peeking around the door. Taekwoon looks curiously between the two of them before his eyes fall back on Hongbin. 

“Yeah, just a sec,” Hongbin says, subconsciously fixing his hair with his free hand. He stands and straightens out his clothes (why didn't he wear something that a makes him look a little less like a total slob?) and sends a glare towards Sanghyuk before following Taekwoon. 

Outside, where Hongbin can finally breathe past the tightening in his chest that his design had failed so horribly, Taekwoon holds out a clipboard full of packing slips. There are at least six boxes stacked up by the door, full of things that at least Hongbin is going to need now that what's left of Sanghyuk’s leg is going to need a lot of salvaging and repurposing. He’ll have to practically make a whole new design from scratch. 

“I'm sure you have a good reason as to why you're holding a foot,” Taekwoon chirps, eyes bright as Hongbin’s face falls into mild panic. Hongbin looks around- oh god this is a little weird he must look so weird- before he comes up with one idea and dips back into the workshop. 

“Sanghyuk, catch!” he says before throwing the foot across the workshop. Sanghyuk catches it easily with a smirk.

“Right,” Hongbin says, his hands trembling at his sides- did he really just throw his precious design that he’d spent days on building and rebuilding until it was perfect- but he shouldn’t be panicking about that right now.“Got a little distracted.” He swallows thickly because Taekwoon’s shirt exposes his collarbones and he suddenly feels hot. “Why don't you come inside for a bit? It'll take me a little to get through all the packing slips.”

Taekwoon nods and follows him inside. Hongbin motions over to the couch and Sanghyuk waves as Taekwoon takes a seat and across from him.

“So Hongbin has a new delivery boy,” he says, smirking as he looks between both of them. His efforts to start the conversation earn him a smack upside the head.

Hongbin leans down close to his ear. “Don't you even start,” he whispers lowly. “I swear if you embarrass me I'll--”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sanghyuk huffs, rolling his eyes. “You'll take longer on the repair or you'll tighten the bolts so they hurt or, I don't know, maybe you'll electrocute me this time.”

Hongbin wishes he could wipe the smirk off Sanghyuk’s face. Instead, he sighs and takes a seat beside Taekwoon, fully conscious of how if he only moved a centimeter they would be touching. 

“So,” Sanghyuk starts, “Do you live around here?”

Taekwoon shakes his head, eyes still wandering around the workshop. Hongbin glances at him from the corner of his eyes and finds it hard to pull his attention away. “I live by the ocean towards the north,” Taekwoon replies. 

“Ah, just out of reach then,” Sanghyuk murmurs. Hongbin looks up to see the distant look in his eyes, looking at Taekwoon but not seeing anything. Sanghyuk’s hand absentmindedly rubs at his thigh just above the connection portal that sits mid-thigh. 

Hongbin quickly crumples up a stray design paper beside the couch and aims for Sanghyuk’s head. “Loser,” he murmurs under his breath, sinking into the couch as the paper hits Sanghyuk’s forehead, dead on its mark. 

Sanghyuk clears his throat before he smiles shallowly, glancing over at Taekwoon who wears his usual stoic expression. “How long have you been delivering for Hongbin.”

“A few weeks,” Taekwoon replies softly. Hongbin determinedly keeps his eyes down on the packing slips in his lap. “Hongbin’s good at what he does.”

Hongbin blushes, and that doesn't escape Sanghyuk who laughs, nearly toppling off his stool. “Sure Hongbin’s good,” Sanghyuk says sarcastically, earning another paper ball aimed for him. This time, he dodges and laughs even harder.

“Shut it, would you?” Hongbin murmurs, eyes down as he signs another packing slip. Beside him, Taekwoon laughs softly under his breath and Hongbin worries his heart might actually burst. 

He distractedly signs the rest of the packing slips, letting Sanghyuk run his mouth and all he can do is pray that he can rectify his reputation afterwards. 

“Do you play any sports, Taekwoon?” Sanghyuk asks. “There's a basketball court nearby and Hongbin and I usually play pick up matches there on Sundays if you want to join us?”

Hongbin finally snaps up, heart thumping heavily. He's already made the mistake of imagining Taekwoon going for a layup, long toned arm reaching up for the rim so that his shirt rides up perfectly. He could probably fake out the defense, going up for a three pointer with perfect form and landing with a brilliant smile that would dim the sun. And if he so much as looked in Hongbin’s direction then--

“Actually, I am free on Sunday.”

Hongbin blanches. He's going to murder Sanghyuk.

“Great!” Sanghyuk smiles mischievously. “The courts are at the park just next to the convenience store on the main street. If you need help finding it just walk over with Hongbin at 4.”

Hongbin is really going to murder Sanghyuk. 

“Sounds good to me,” Taekwoon replies. His expectant gaze meets with Hongbin’s briefly before Hongbin shoves the clipboard into his lap. Taekwoon laughs softly, glancing through the slips before he stands.

“Aw, do you have to leave so soon?” Sanghyuk pouts. “Hongbin’s going to torture me again when you leave.”

Hongbin sputters. He throws another paper ball at Sanghyuk’s head but instead it falls far too short. “When have I ever tortured you, ungrateful brat.”

“You're going to tighten up the ankle too hard! You know how much that hurts.”

“Hey! When have I ever done that?!”

“Or you might electrocute all my nerves!”

“I've never--”

“Or maybe you'll connect my foot just to rip off a toe because you'll be so distracted by--”

Hongbin is ready to throw a wrench at Sanghyuk’s head when Taekwoon’s soft chuckle snaps him out of his anger. 

“I'll see you Sunday, Hongbin,” he says simply before waving goodbye. The bell jingles as the door shuts behind him, and Hongbin doesn't make a sound for a while. It's not a date, is it? No, this is just hanging out because the usual guys will be there. It's not really a date because Hongbin won't be alone with Taekwoon. At least if he freezes up someone else will be there to snap him out of it.

But… he does kind of wish it was a date.

He shakes his head, willing himself to snap out of it. 

“You're welcome!” Sanghyuk chirps, wearing a smirk proudly. Hongbin just groans and plops back down on the crate at Sanghyuk’s foot to finish his examination.

“You're just upset I beat you every weekend.” Hongbin looks over the wiring in the shin and up to the kneecap, figuring he just has a few to replace and strengthen. He pushes Sanghyuk’s shorts past his knee and releases the locks holding the prosthetic to the portal. He releases Sanghyuk’s leg fully from the portal before setting the prosthetic on his workbench and switching on the desk light. 

“Believe whatever you want,” Sanghyuk huffs, “but you will thank me later.”

Hongbin sighs, accidentally ripping some of the silicon too harshly and tearing it further. “Brat,” he murmurs under his breath, vaguely wondering how he's even going to repair the ankle joint so that nothing like this happens again.

“But I'm your brat,” Sanghyuk adds with a big smile. Hongbin glances over at him, feeling happy just by the way Sanghyuk’s eyes crinkle with his smile. 

“As long as you admit you have a problem. That is the first step to recovery.”

This time, Hongbin gets a paper ball thrown at his forehead and all he can do is laugh.

 

 

 

Knowing Sanghyuk, Hongbin should have expected this. 

He’d spent four days working hard on Sanghyuk’s repair, as well as a few other orders that had been added during the week. He hadn’t been content with any of his designs so far since he couldn’t figure out exactly how to fix Sanghyuk’s ankle for next time. It kept him up late into the night until on Friday he had finally settled on a design and a prototype that he was sure would work. Reinforcing some of the rotation joints and the outer casing with a lighter but more durable steel alloy would prevent it from rotating wildly when hit even though it would add a bit more weight to the prosthetic.

Working on it straight through Saturday and into Sunday still didn’t give him enough time to finish before the pickup game, meaning Sanghyuk would be out of this weekend’s game and Hongbin would be out of a star defender on his team. 

However, when he shows up to the basketball court with only a basketball tucked under his arm, it’s obvious Sanghyuk hadn’t planned on showing up in the first place- and neither had anyone else.

On the court, Taekwoon stands alone, leaning up against the chainlink fence and glancing absentmindedly at his shoes scuffing the court. He’s dressed in black sweatpants and a black and white graphic tank top that cuts low in the front and on the sides. For the first time he’s not wearing a cap and his hair splays messily over his forehead. 

Hongbin swallows thickly. No one had shown up except Taekwoon. Sanghyuk had planned all of this and he should’ve expected it. 

“Hongbin, you made it,” Taekwoon says. He smiles slightly, and Hongbin curses that he can’t run away now.

“I thought Sanghyuk would be here by now,” he murmurs, feeling nervousness well up in his chest. He licks at his lips and shoves his hands in his pockets, praying that Taekwoon hadn’t seen them shaking. “Though his repair isn’t done just yet. I’m not sure what the other guys are up to either. They should be here by now.”

Taekwoon simply shrugs. “We could just go one on one. If anyone else shows up I’ll add them to your team since you might need the help.”

Hongbin takes the bait easily, running a rough hand through his hair as his competitive side starts to come through. He smiles wide, hoping his innocent look and dimpled cheeks will give him an edge later. “Why don’t you show me how good you are then?”

Smirking, Taekwoon strides to half court and pushes his hair out of his eyes. Hongbin lines up in front of him and checks the ball, immediately getting into a low defensive stance. Taekwoon’s eyes are sharp as he starts dribbling the ball, looking past Hongbin’s shoulders for an opening. He’s fast, trying to fake left and push right, but Hongbin knows the tricks and he easily keeps up. Taekwoon tries to push in and pull back to take a shot at the point guard post, but Hongbin jumps at his chance and it distracts Taekwoon enough that the ball bounces off the rim. 

Hongbin sprints for the ball, reaching it seconds before Taekwoon does, and pulls back to half court to start the round over. It feels good to have his heart pumping hard from the rush of the game, his legs and arms taking on the familiar ache from starting to push himself. He sucks in a breath and sinks low, eyes falling on Taekwoon who has the same happy smile spread wide on his face. 

Taekwoon hates to lose. Hongbin can see as much written in the bright mirth in his eyes and the anticipating twitch at his fingers. He starts to push down the court, keeping his left arm up and dribbling down the court to pretend going in for a layup. Taekwoon falls for it, and Hongbin pulls back to the three point line at the last moment and goes up for an open shot. The ball swishes through the net and he smiles proudly. 

“I’m sorry,” he smirks, “who was the one needing an extra team member?”

Taekwoon smiles, shaking his head as he checks the ball with Hongbin on his way back to half court. “You’re good, but this game isn’t over yet.”

Hongbin passes the ball back before flicking his hair from his eyes and sitting back in a defensive stance. “Bring it on, Taekwoon.”

It’s a game to ten goals and they are tied nearly the whole match. Taekwoon’s a strong defense and Hongbin is a strong offense and so they end up being the perfect match in skills for each other. It feels comfortable playing like this, playing with Taekwoon. Hongbin’s mind is so focused on the game that it finally feels like an actual break from being holed up in his workshop all the time. Like this, with both their walls down, Hongbin feels surprisingly at ease being around Taekwoon, even if the world around them is much less so. 

It comes to game point, Hongbin in the lead with nine goals to Taekwoon’s eight, and just as he’s about to end it all with a final three-pointer, Taekwoon starts to poke fingers in his side. It’s an effective strategy that leaves Hongbin laughing, gasping for breath, and the ball thrown so that it misses the goal entirely. 

“You cheated!” Hongbin yells, running after Taekwoon for the ball again. “I was about to win!”

“Hey!”

Both Taekwoon and Hongbin stop, chests heaving for air as they glance at the sidelines. Some of the neighborhood kids have turned up, looking on eagerly at the both of them playing.

“We want to play too!” one of the older boys shouts. Three more kids behind him nod excitedly, bouncing on their heels. The other kids look on expectantly, their eyes never leaving the basketball tucked under Taekwoon’s arm.

Hongbin looks over at Taekwoon and both of them smile simultaneously.

Taekwoon passes the ball to the oldest kid, who catches it happily and runs on the court to be on Taekwoon’s team. The rest of the kids naturally split themselves evenly between Hongbin’s team and Taekwoon’s. Both of them keep the ball between the kids, Taekwoon especially ensuring that the youngest kids on his team get a chance to hold the ball. Hongbin picks up the kids on his team and flies them across court until the kids on Taekwoon’s team cheer for him to steal the ball and pass it back to them. When Taekwoon’s team has the ball, they spread out around the court and throw it to each other until Taekwoon receives it and jumps to score a shot.

Hongbin feels a little bit starstruck just watching Taekwoon. He picks up the youngest boy on his team, holding him on his shoulders and urging him to shoot the ball. When the ball goes in, he takes the excited kid off his shoulders and props him up against his hip, brushing his hand through the boy’s hair, running his thumb over his cheek, and says he’d done such a good job. His eyes are shining from genuine happiness and his smile is so blinding, and Hongbin wouldn’t have thought to have seen such a bright star in his lifetime when the world outside this little bubble, outside this little town, is in such chaos.

Taekwoon turns to look at him, smiling so brightly, and Hongbin thinks his heart stops.

“Hongbin!”

He snaps from his thoughts just in time to catch the pass thrown at him. He’s about to dribble down the court when arms encase him from behind and the ball is knocked from his hands.

“Quick, take the ball!” Taekwoon says, his lips brushing so close to Hongbin’s ear. He laughs, and Hongbin swallows to hold down the shiver that he feels at the base of his spine. He stays in Taekwoon’s arms, feeling his heart beat against his ribcage, until Taekwoon’s team scores the last point.

Hongbin laughs breathlessly, feeling heat prickle where Taekwoon’s arms are around. He turns around, and Taekwoon’s arms fall to his sides but his eyes are still so bright. “I think I’ve won,” Taekwoon murmurs.

Despite Hongbin feeling like his heart is so big in his chest that he could choke, he smiles and whispers, “I demand a rematch.”

“Alright,” Taekwoon replies, his tongue peeking from between his pink lips. His cheeks are flushed pink from exertion and sweat is clinging to his bangs. “Next time.”

Hongbin smiles shyly and glances down nervously at his feet. “Next time.”

They stick around until the kids all go home, and then they walk down the main street until the road splits. Taekwoon has his car parked further down and Hongbin’s home is down the other path. His heart aches to say goodbye, the ache in his cheeks from smiling and laughing all afternoon still sits warm in his chest. His palms are clammy in his pockets, his heart flutters in his chest, and he doesn’t really want this to be goodbye just yet.

Taekwoon tosses him the basketball, smirk still visible in the dark. “I’ll see you later, Hongbin,” he says, starting to backtrack down the path to his car. “And please sleep.”

Hongbin nods, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks. You too,” he offers, suddenly thankful for the darkness because he can feel heat crawling up his neck. He dribbles the ball a bit, distracting himself as Taekwoon jogs down the street and disappears at an intersection. 

Hongbin makes his way back home, feeling comfortable in the silence of the night. He stops by a convenience store on his way back and buys food that he can cook in the microwave because he feels far too exhausted to bother with anything else. The sound of the basketball hitting the ground is loud, but Hongbin can’t really hear it over the blood pumping in his ears. He thinks for a moment too long about Taekwoon’s laugh, his smile, his too competitive side and his childish side, and he ends up kicking the ball into bushes by the roadside by accident. 

He exhales. Night feels less like a reprieve from work and more like an eternity with his thoughts.

 

 

 

Hongbin has the last CD Wonshik had given him blasting in his workshop, a soundtrack he’d composed just as he’d promised nearly two months ago. It helps to drown out the silence as he works diligently. He’s been working for hours straight- he’d lost count after he’d forced himself to pull away from his work and eat something for breakfast- and his eyes are starting to strain at the intensity of his desk lamp. He’s been trying to rework a kneecap rotation point, the circuitry in this new design is mixing up all the signals, and it’s about to drive him crazy. He’s propped on his knees at the edge of his seat, hunched over the table with his face so close to the circuit boards and wires that he might be seeing double. The connection points are hardly larger than the tip of a pencil, and rewiring them takes dexterity that Hongbin often lacks. Being too rough with rewiring around the connection point will crush the connection point, and the whole circuit board will have to be discarded for another. 

He sighs, brushing his thumb over the wires in his hand, balancing at the tip of his fingers. His hands are shaking with the connection point gripped between his thumb and index finger in his left hand and he wills himself to focus on the music to take his mind off the pressure. Exhaling his nerves, he winds the exposed ends of the wires around the connection point, and then carefully takes the whole circuit board to the soldering iron to weld it together. 

When it’s all done and when he’s finally satisfied with the stability of the wires to the connection points, he reworks the wiring up the shin and into the kneecap and starts to stabilize all of it in steel alloy casing. He rubs at his eyes, realizing just how exhausted he feels, and sets up a magnifying glass over the prosthetic to double check all of his work. 

His work has all of his focus that the music becomes a low buzz in the background and he doesn’t even hear the bell chime over his front door or the call for a delivery. A hand on his shoulder startles him and he has to make himself physically conscious about the work in his hands so that he doesn’t break anything as he flinches.

He looks up to see Taekwoon smiling down at him. Sighing, he clutches his heart that won’t stop pounding only partially because of the surprise. 

“You scared me,” he says, unwinding his fingers from the wiring and letting both hands clutch at his chest. His eyes are clenched tight, breath heavy in his lungs. “I almost broke the circuit board.” Thinking about having to do it all over again was enough to make him shiver. 

Taekwoon smiles simply, leaning in closer to Hongbin’s workspace. “Show me,” he says softly, setting the clipboard of packing slips off to the side. “Show me what you’re working on.”

Hongbin swallows thickly and nods, standing up and pulling a taller stool beside him at his workbench. Taekwoon pulls the stool close to Hongbin’s side and props his elbows up on the table. They’re close enough that their arms brush as Hongbin pulls the prosthetic in front of Taekwoon. 

“I decided to redesign some of the wiring in this prototype,” Hongbin starts, pulling free some of the wiring to display. “A lot of the signals were getting mixed up when they reached the kneecap, thus making it lock or twist out of control.” 

Taekwoon nods, pink lips pulled into a pout as he looks curiously at all the circuitry in the prosthetic, and Hongbin feels his hands start to go clammy and his heart stutter. But Taekwoon is a good listener when Hongbin gets nervous and begins to ramble in the technicalities of his design. Even if Taekwoon doesn’t understand half the terminology he uses or understand half the logic behind making nerve connections and designing circuit boards, he listens and asks questions when it falls a little silent and Hongbin is all the more happy to continue to ramble.

Like this, with Taekwoon, Hongbin is comfortable. Not that the telltale shake of his hands shows it.

“Let me hold it for you,” Taekwoon says, motioning for the circuit board between Hongbin’s trembling fingers. “I don’t have another delivery to make for a bit so I don’t mind helping- if you want.”

Hongbin passes him the circuit board, feeling electricity at his fingertips when their hands brush. Taekwoon looks in amazement at the circuit board before holding it out patiently for Hongbin to finish the wiring. It takes much less time since Hongbin can use both of his hands to work the wiring around and since the board isn’t shaking at his fingers. He takes the finished board from Taekwoon and solders the wires to the connection points before placing the board back in the prosthetic. They do each circuit board like this until they finish the last one at the kneecap and Hongbin can look back to admire the work. 

“It looks really good! I think it should work this time,” he says, admiring the prosthetic closely to double check for anything wrong before covering it all in steel for protection. He pokes at a few wires and tests a few connections until he’s finally satisfied with how it all looks and fits into the prosthetic.

And then he looks up at Taekwoon, suddenly realizing their faces are so close together, and his heart catches in his throat. The space is so close between them that it feels like the air is disappearing. He feels a little dizzy, feels just as starstruck as he had been before, being this close to Taekwoon. Seconds feel like minutes and Hongbin isn’t sure just how long he’s been staring at Taekwoon, how long he’s been thinking about kissing him too. 

A beat of silence passes. If he had to guess, there can’t be more than twenty centimeters between their lips. A little more of the distance disappears with every breath, Hongbin’s pulse beats heavy in his veins, and just as his eyes are about to flutter shut--

“Lee Hongbin! Come at me with your inferior prosthetic design so I can have the glory of finally kicking your ass!”

Hongbin jerks back, the air stale as his gaze locks on Taekwoon. He freezes, not even able to exhale.

Jaehwan, the closest mechanic to Hongbin and his friend when they’d trained under the same mechanic, glides across the room with a prosthetic leg tucked under his arm and no concern for the atmosphere he’d just waltzed into. The music is still blaring in the workshop but Hongbin can’t hear it over his heartbeat. 

“Unless you’ve got something better than my 620-E Translock wiring welded to a conductive aluminum alloy to control ankle rolling, I’ve got you beat!” he says, sliding in the space right between Hongbin and Taekwoon and plopping his prosthetic right on the workbench.

Hongbin’s jaw hangs lax. Jaehwan had to show up now of all times. 

“Oh?” Jaehwan looks curiously between Hongbin and Taekwoon before his eyes stay fixed on Taekwoon. “Hongbin! You didn’t even bother to tell me who this is!”

If only the floor would open and swallow Hongbin whole to hide from the mortification. Even better, maybe a hole would open up beneath Jaehwan and suck him to the blistering core of the earth. 

Hongbin sucks in a breath, trying to keep his voice steady. “Taekwoon delivers packages to me now since Chanshik moved to the south.”

Taekwoon doesn’t say anything- he hardly smiles in Jaehwan’s direction. He grabs the clipboard of packing slips on the table and pushes them silently towards Hongbin.

“Ah, really?” Jaehwan says, glancing between the both of them again before wiggling his eyebrows at Hongbin. “I wish the guys delivering packages on the coast were nearly as handsome.”

Hongbin places a well aimed kick to the back of Jaehwan’s knees, making his legs buckle and feeling satisfied as he hits the ground. Jaehwan starts to spout words at him, claiming Hongbin is jealous of his own inferior design and superior skills, before he turns all his attention to Taekwoon and pester him with endless questions. Taekwoon looks a little shocked at the sheer speed Jaehwan keeps firing questions at him and responding to replies he doesn’t receive, and Hongbin can’t help but laugh. 

Taking the packing slips, Hongbin goes through them and signs off each one without paying attention, feeling just a little sorry that Taekwoon has to deal with Jaehwan. He passes back the packing slips with a heavy sigh. Taekwoon smiles at him briefly before silently pushing his way past Jaehwan and leaving to his car. 

Jaehwan sighs as the door shuts behind Taekwoon. “Damn. I was going to ask him to judge our prosthetic designs. I need an objective opinion to prove I’ve beaten you this time.”

Hongbin scoffs, turning back to his design and trying to forget about just how close he was to kissing Taekwoon. “If you think your 620-E wiring is enough to beat me then you’re sorely mistaken.” Hongbin reaches across the table and hands Jaehwan one of the spare circuit boards. Jaehwan’s jaw drops immediately. 

“I’ve got you beat by my own designed circuit boards,” Hongbin continues, leaning back against his chair. “Designed with 440-X transistors, 930-B neural connections, and a combination of 80-Steel backing and 238-AD micro wiring. Added to my prototype, knee rotation is totally controlled by more accurate processing of neural signals and increased stability by the steel alloy casing.”

Jaehwan stomps his foot childishly, thrusting the circuit board back into Hongbin’s hand. “You suck!” He snatches his prototype from the table and stomps out of the room. “You win this round, Lee! Don’t expect to keep up your streak!”

“Hey!” Hongbin calls out after him, just as the front door to the shop is about to close. “You owe me dinner for losing!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Be ready at six! Otherwise the deal is dead!” Jaehwan yells from outside. He’s probably already bounding down the path to his car, fuming at his design. 

Hongbin breathes out a sigh, suddenly exhausted. He pushes the prosthetic leg off to the corner of the table and flops on the table with a whine. The table feels cool to the heat of his cheeks and the heat itching at the base of his spine as his thoughts of Taekwoon kissing him come rushing back. His heart feels like it’s twisting up tight in his chest until it’s hard to breathe. 

He exhales, pathetically pushing away the prototype further to the corner of the table. 

“Fuck.”

 

 

 

He should’ve done it then. He should’ve kissed Taekwoon when he had the chance.

“Hongbin, that hurts. Can you stop tightening it?”

He can build microchips and circuit boards to be able to transform the complexity of nerves and sensation into electrical signals as data to process. He’s read hundreds of books on the complexity of neural signals and has built and designed prosthetics for years. And yet, he must be an idiot for not kissing Taekwoon then and there.

“Would you stop tightening my knee--”

He must be a fucking idiot for letting that chance slip away. It’s been nearly two weeks and Taekwoon hasn’t come back since then and it’s probably all his fault. Of course if he weren’t so embarrassed by it all, he could’ve shown up for basketball on Sunday where Taekwoon was apparently waiting for him, at least according to Sanghyuk, but that would have meant seeing Taekwoon face to face again and having to talk about what almost happened and Hongbin was scared he may actually combust. Plus, work is always a sufficient excuse for skipping out--

His head snaps back suddenly. Hakyeon is staring down at him angrily, fingers poised to flick his forehead again. “I told you to stop tightening my knee and now it feels like it’ll shatter if you so much as turn that wrench one more time,” he grits out. 

Hongbin sighs. “Sorry,” he murmurs, quickly loosening the bolt. Lips pressed in a thin line, he stays quiet until Hakyeon tells him it’s enough.

“What’s gotten into you?” Hakyeon hums, gaze soft as he runs his hand through Hongbin’s hair. He gently nudges Hongbin’s side with right foot until the latter ends up flopping bonelessly on his legs, his cheek pressed into the portals at Hakyeon’s knees. “I’m starting to think you might be seriously sick if you’re willingly being affectionate with me.”

Hongbin manages a small smile at that, but he’s quickly back to feeling confused. “I don’t know,” he sighs. His stomach hurts from all the nerves and he knows that he has to do something so he can stop feeling this way. Hakyeon starts to card through his hair to calm him down, tugging at his ears when the silence grows to be too much.

So Hongbin starts from the beginning and explains everything because Hakyeon is a good listener in moments like this. Hakyeon doesn’t say anything until Hongbin has rambled out all of his worries, down to the last of even starting a relationship in times like this. He doesn’t feel quite so anxious afterwards, thankful for the brief moment of silence that follows. 

“You’re thinking too much,” Hakyeon finally says. “Don’t think about it and just let things happen normally. You’ll know how to handle it when you see Taekwoon again.” 

Hongbin sighs, absentmindedly tapping Hakyeon’s leg to distract himself. Of course Hakyeon’s answer is logical and easy and exactly what he knew he should’ve done from the start. Instead of saying anything, he knocks his forehead into Hakyeon’s knees and groans. 

Hakyeon pats his head sympathetically. “Stop thinking and just go talk to him again.”

Hongbin pulls away from Hakyeon’s legs and finishes the rest of the checkup in silence, attempting to drown out his thoughts. Everything checks out fine, but even in the 20 minutes it takes to make small adjustments, Hongbin’s mind doesn’t feel any less in a turmoil than before.

“Hey, Hakyeon, do you want to go out for a run?” he murmurs as Hakyeon stands to test out the adjustments. Hakyeon looks back at him curiously before he smiles softly and nods.

“Just don’t go easy on me,” he says, taking Hongbin’s outstretched hands and hauling him up. “My endurance is better than yours anyway.”

Hongbin simply smiles and follows Hakyeon outside, locking up behind him. Hopefully this will be enough to clear his head. 

 

 

 

Sunday rolls around and Hongbin is back at the basketball court late at night when everyone had left hours ago. The only working streetlight in the park illuminates just half the court, making it feel like a world doesn’t exist beyond the court. Hongbin shoots free throws to clear his head, forcing himself to focus on making one shot after another.

_Miss._

_Miss._

_Miss._

_Miss._

Hongbin, frustrated, catches the rebound and throws the basketball as hard as he can against the backboard. The ball bounces into the dark and Hongbin flops onto his back with a groan. Not even this is enough to clear his head and he just might go crazy if this continues on any longer. A prickling heat starts crawling up the base of his spine from his thoughts, and he runs rough hands through his hair as if it would take away the anxiety bubbling in his stomach. 

He really was making this more difficult than it had to be. 

He sighs, staring up at the night sky and hoping to clear his mind. Thoughts are buzzing around in his head and so he shuts his eyes and pushes all of them aside. He’s not going to think about anything- not the four repairs waiting back on his workbench or how Wonshik will probably add another repair to his bench or how Sanghyuk comes by with Jaehwan so often with the intent to annoy him or--

There’s a not so gentle kick to his side. Hongbin opens his eyes only to find Taekwoon looming over him with his usual unreadable expression. His mind goes blank almost instantly as Taekwoon sits beside him. 

Taekwoon pokes his neck, his lips pulling down into a small pout. “I haven’t seen you around lately,” he says softly, his gaze gentle. 

Hongbin sighs and sits up. The nerves are back and they’re starting to make his hands shake. “I’ve just been busy,” he murmurs, his eyes trained on his legs. The heat is crawling up his spine again and it’s making him hot and uncomfortable again. 

Taekwoon hums, simply drawing up his knees to his chest and locking his arms around his shins. He props up his chin on his knees and stares on at Hongbin, seeming not to be affected by Hongbin’s reply nor the silence that follows. When Hongbin finally looks up, his gaze is a little bit unnerving because he has no idea what’s going on in Taekwoon’s mind. 

But Taekwoon looks at him understandingly, comfortingly. And while he can’t tell what Taekwoon is thinking, his own mind is a jumble of too many thoughts, tangled with anxiety, all surrounding Taekwoon. The times they’d talked about nothing important, smiled with stupid jokes he’d tried to crack, and laughed playing basketball on Sundays be it alone or with others rush through his mind. 

And suddenly, it all seems clear. Despite the nerves that are making his hands shake, Hongbin shuts out all his thoughts and chastely kisses Taekwoon. 

Silence. It’s normal, though not comforting to Hongbin’s anxiety until Taekwoon takes his shaking hands between his and tugs Hongbin close to kiss him again. He seals their mouths together, tilting his head and taking Hongbin’s bottom lip between his. Hongbin moans softly into his mouth, his hands finally relaxing between Taekwoon’s. It feels like his heart could burst this second, his chest filled with warmth like the sun were burning. He’s dizzy from the sensation of Taekwoon’s soft lips on his, Taekwoon’s hands clasped tightly around his, and he lets himself get lost in it all until it feels like he can’t breathe. 

Taekwoon is the first to pull back but there’s only twenty centimeters between their lips so Hongbin surges forward to peck Taekwoon’s lips, desperate to keep the memory of their kiss. Even in the dark, Hongbin can see the swell of Taekwoon’s reddening lips and he blushes red. 

“That…” he exhales, feeling his heart stutter. “That was long overdue.”

Taekwoon quietly laughs, looking down at their hands. “Maybe,” he whispers, his dark eyes hidden behind his bangs. “Two weeks overdue.”

Hongbin groans, ducking his head to hide the mortification flooding through him. “I’m sorry,” he replies. “I didn’t know what to do after and I was thinking too much and I really did get swamped with work but I should have--”

Taekwoon cups his cheek and pecks his forehead. He exhales softly, affectionately running the pads of his fingers over Hongbin’s neck. “You’re rambling again.”

Hongbin laughs sheepishly, ruffling his hair with still trembling hands. “I’ll shut up if you kiss me?” 

“It’s not that I don’t like to hear your voice,” Taekwoon says, smiling as he leans in to seal their lips again, “But I think I would much rather kiss you right now.”

Hongbin smiles and kisses Taekwoon again. It’s comfortable, familiar, and Hongbin’s sure he could get used to a lifetime of this.


End file.
